I Regret
by SaitouuRyuuji
Summary: After falling from the Bi-frost, Loki accidentally found his way to earth, but in the process he lost his memories. Now living his life under a borrowed name he has a chance to change, and become better. Let's just hope that he'll be able to hold onto his newfound redemption, even if he doesn't know from what he needs redeeming from. There is no slash in this story.


Disclaimer: I don't own any marvel character in any way shape or form. This fanfic was created because I was bored and because I've always wondered what would have happened if Loki had fallen straight to earth and had been found by S.H.I.E.L.D.

Chapter 1: Jet

Pain was all he could feel or remember. It invaded his senses and pushed it's way through every crevasse in his mind and for a split second Loki thought he was on fire. All concept of time was frozen and Loki was numb to his own body's surroundings as he slowly came out of unconsciousness.

Still lost in his own mind, unaware that his descent through Yggdrasil's branches had come to an end, that he was no longer physically lost to the Void's darkness but in white sand, lying in a crater of his own making. Loki involuntarily let out a groan of pain.

Despite the wind blowing sand over his supine form, the world around him was silent. All but an annoying buzzing in his ears. Or was that the sound of his shattered brain rolling around in his head, the tiny pieces bouncing around like a baby's rattle when it's shaken.

Something touched his arm and like a jolt of lightning Loki's awareness sharpened, sound finally percolating into his mind. His breath sounded ragged in his ears and his body felt raw-not the sharp pain that had kept him trapped in his mind, but a throbbing weariness that had overtaken his limbs. Loki lazily opened his eyes when he felt the heat of the noon-day sun on his face and some parts of his upper body-the rest of his body feeling blessedly cool as it had been half buried in a sand dune-Loki truly didn't know how long he had been in the barren sands.

It was then that Loki saw what had touched him. A young man with blonde hair was crouched not too far away from Loki's head staring at him with sympathetic blue eyes-blue eyes that reminded Loki of Thor. For a split second Loki thought he had been discovered by his broth-not brother-Thor. Panic ate at his gut and Loki tried to take a deep breath to calm his nerves. Worst mistake he had made in his entire life.

His ribcage erupted in fiery pain, leaving his chest feeling tight and constricted he couldn't breathe and in his terror he began to hyperventilate. Loki involuntarily rolled onto his right side and folded in on himself displacing the sand that had accumulated on some parts of his body. It was a wonder that Loki hadn't started choking on the sand around him.

"Woah there buddy. Take it easy, you're going to be alright. The med team is coming with some medical supplies so they can patch you up before taking you back to base. From there you'll get the proper care needed to make a full recovery."

Once reality caught up with Loki and he calmed down, he realized, much to his chagrin, that the buzzing he had heard earlier must have been this man talking to him in an attempt to keep him calm. The fact that this human had been around him in his vulnerable state, left a bad taste in his mouth. Loki prided himself for being aware of his surroundings and the fact that he never allowed anybody to sneak up on him, but the pain from his crash landing had been so excruciating that it had driven Loki into unconsciousness. Being vulnerable had never sat well with Loki and the more he thought about it the more his pride flared. Anger displaced Loki's earlier panic and began to boil over, fueling his body into action. He locked his jaw in fierce determination against the intense pain that shot through his thin frame. He tried to bring his left arm above his head so he could grasp anything that might help him drag his broken and useless body away from the man that grimly reminded him of Thor.

Instead he felt, rather than heard, bone scrape against bone. Loki's eyes clamped shut as he screamed out in agony. His body trembled and a cold sweat collected on his brow. He felt sick to his stomach and tried hard not to dry heave. He just knew that he had to get away. He didn't know where he was, but from the looks of the human that was now kneeling before him, he was somewhere on Midgard.

"Buddy, don't move, you'll only aggravate your injuries worse." The man kindly lifted Loki's head, which was lying sideways in the sand, and placed something under it cushioning it. Loki spat out some sand that had made its way into his mouth. He would have growled at the man's words but didn't have the energy. He ignored the man instead and began listing options of ways he could escape before other promised people showed up. The only way that he was going to be able to get away was through his magic. He closed his eyes, managed to calm his breathing and focused inwards. He felt a small trickle of his magic and knew that he was dangerously low, but the need to get away was singular on his mind so he overrode his common sense and began mentally calling forth to his magic, which appeared in thin green strands. With those strands he began to weave a spell of invisibility over himself. He almost lost concentration when he heard a gratifying gasp of surprise come from the man.

His spell would have been completed without interruption if he hadn't felt something warm trickle down from his nose. Loki felt his body seize and tighten, before it began to shake uncontrollably. Loki's eyes rolled back into his head and his last conscious thought was _Oh my goodness, what have I done?_

* * *

The blonde-haired man, Steve Rogers, looked on in horror as the mysteriously injured man in the sand thrashed before him. Liquid terror ran through his veins and with a sense of helplessness he just stared on, not knowing what to do. The adrenaline that pumped through his veins caused him to stagger to his feet and stumble a few feet away in the sand. He wasn't trained for this type of crisis. A keening wale, akin to that of a wounded animal shattered Steve's thoughts. It was soon replaced by a throaty gagging sound, that almost sounded like painful hiccups, issuing from the dark-haired man before him. Steve did the only think he could think of and pulled a two-way radio off his belt. His voice shuttered a little in fright as he called to the medical team.

"Medical…what's you're ETA? Injured party is having a seizure of some kind and I don't know what to do."

Static was all he received in return.

"Captain America to Medical team, what is your ETA?"

More static, before a frail voice came on over the radio.

"….Medical…copy…estimated...five minutes….what is patient doing now?"

Steve gritted his teeth and huffed out a sigh. He clawed his free hand through his hair and looked around disparagingly. They must not have heard his previous message. He repeated himself. "Medical…injured party is having a seizure of some kind."

About this time the throaty gagging sound began to be more inhumane, an almost ominous snarling as the unconscious man struggled to breathe. For a minute Steve thought the man had been possessed by a demon of some kind. In his thrashing the man had fallen from his side to be face down in the sand, though his head was still supported by Steve's jacket. Because the man was face down Steve couldn't see the blood languidly oozing out of his nose.

"His body muscles are seizing so badly that it's causing his body more stress. He at least has left broken arm, maybe a few broken ribs and a possible concussion. Right now he's face down in my jacket."

"Whatever you do, don't try to restrain him, but if you can gently move him onto his side so that he doesn't suffocate. We're almost there."

With that Steve put his radio back on his belt. He brought himself to a crouch before the man again. The man was a mess of contorted limbs, green and black rags, that may have once been his clothes, and twisted golden metal of some kind. From the man's earlier attempt a movement Steve could see that his left arm was at a grotesquely odd angle as was his right leg. Steve took a minute to wonder where exactly this man hailed from. He definitely was stronger than a normal human. The fact that he only had some broken bones and slight gashes testified that he could handle more damage.

After a few aborted attempts at reaching out to help turn the man on his side he gained the courage to gently push the man's left shoulder up with his right hand while he put his left under the man's right side of his face. He kept his hands in position until he physically felt the tremors in the man's body lessen.

Steve knew, with the extent of the man's injuries, just the fact that he had pushed the man's upper torso onto his side and put a hand under the man's face, Steve was running the risk that he had hurt the man more…only time would tell. He could only hope that he helped save the man instead of do something as bad as make him a paraplegic.

With nothing to do but sit and wait for the medical team to arrive he thought back to earlier when S.H.I.E.L.D. had received a warning by way of a bleeping red dot on a radar screen. Nick Fury had sent Steve out on reconnaissance to find out exactly what it was that had fallen into the sands of White Sands National Monument located in New Mexico. Though Steve had heard about Thor, some supposed demigod from a place called Asgard, had fallen to earth- Puente Antiguo, New Mexico, to be more specific-the soldier out of time didn't know exactly how many miles that small town was from sand dune he had found this man in. He had come prepared with his full Captain America regalia just in case he needed to use it.

Steve just knew he should have brought somebody with him rather than fly the jet to the designated location by himself because, upon arrival, when he saw the body beginning to be buried in the sand that his jet had kicked up, he cursed to himself and left his shield behind before pulling out a first-aid kit. Steve did what he could to stem any bleeding he could, which surprisingly wasn't much, before he recognized the man had began to stir into consciousness. He thought he had been helpful in talking to the man, but seeing by the man's reaction to him, he hadn't been very helpful at all.

Steve was broken out of his thoughts when he heard another painful keening noise. He looked down and noticed that the man had gone completely still. He stared down at the man's head and noticed that the man was staring, not glaring, back at him. Steve looked into the man's strikingly green eyes and read a slight sense of relief in their depths.

"Are you alright?" Steve asked, worry bleeding into his voice.

The man said nothing, just laid there and stared.

About this time the medical team finally arrived, taking command of the situation. They were able to stabilize the dark-haired man's injuries and his neck just in case he had injured it in his fall. They had pushed Steve away from the man in their seemingly chaotic fashion of getting him ready for transport. Before they left Steve called out to them.

"Wait."

"Captain America, with all due respect we have to get this man back to base before he takes a turn for the worst." A medic spat out perturbedly.

"Wait, just a second." Steve stated, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. Why did everybody have to call him by his code name? It was rather annoying. "He's trying to say something. Let him speak."

With that Steve went to stand next to the gurney they had placed the nameless man on. He had to lean in just so he could hear the whispered breath of a voice.

"….ank you." Steve cocked his head in confusion. The man clenched his right hand in frustration and mustered some more energy to speak. The very act of speaking was draining the man and Steve could tell His eyes were half-lidded and his long, black bangs and face were coated in white sand making the man look quite pallid.

"Tha..nk you. What's you…re name?"

"Steve and your's?"

There was a pained look that travelled across the man's face. It could have easily been mistaken as pain from his injuries, but Steve could tell that this look was one more of embarrassment than actual pain.

"I…don't….remember…"

* * *

A/N: Wow that turned out pretty good. I'm sure there are some things that could be changed especially the medical portion of it, but I hope I didn't fail miserably when creating this first chapter. I made sure to do my research on Grand Mal seizures and found that on rare, occasions, really really really rare occasions people that have Grand Mal seizures can actually get amnesia. Please let me know if there's anything I need to change that isn't correct at all or wasn't very clear. Feel free to review and leave comments.


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